Getting To Know Each Other
by Trishata96
Summary: Cloud Ruler Temple is attacked by the Mythic Dawn, In their escape, Selmia is badly injured so Martin carries her away from danger and nurses her back to health. They both decide to use this time to learn about each other's pasts and end up learning not everyone is truly innocent.. May go onto Champion/Martin
1. Selmia-Pilot

**Getting to know each other.**

Selmia Grace quickly scanned the hall before her. Baurus had gone to grab something to eat and Martin had, once again, fallen asleep at his table. It was really only her and Baurus who usually caught the Septim napping. The two blades had long ago agreed to let Martin sleep and not wake him up. Because of this, the bags underneath Martin's eyes had slowly disappeared, they were still there but not as prominent. Taking silent steps, she sat across from him and put her feet up on the chair beside her own.

By all rights she ought to have been in her bedroll in the barracks as Jauffre had ordered. But the barracks was not really her cup of tea, plus you had the nice, roaring fire in the hall. Lastly, watching Martin sleep somehow put her at ease and he didn't snore. Slowly she felt her eyelids droop and Selmia succumbed to the call of sleep.

"Come on Gracey. Gracey?" A voice called to her, in her dreams. Gracey. That was Martin's nickname for her, he'd called her it the once out of sleep depravation and found that it annoyed her. But he only called her that in a joking mood, for his sake most proberly.

"Nope, you're not hungry?" The scent of leek and ham stew crawled up her nose. "Fine. Baurus do you want seconds?"

"Really? Thanks. My favourite stew as well. Selmia will have to go hungry." Selmia's eyes snapped open and she sat bolt up in her chair. There Baurus stood, a spoon half-raised to his mouth. The Redguard immediately tried to look innocent. Several sniggers came from Martin, trying his best to keep a smirk off his face. Selmia narrowed her eyes and glared at both of the men. Martin quickly began examining some of his notes rather than meet her silver eyes. After a while Martin spoke:

"Baurus. I'd advise giving Selmia her stew. Knowing Jauffre, he'd make me clean up the smear on the floor." Baurus lowered the spoon and uttered a few curses. Selmia tried to reach out her hand for the bowl when she realised somebody had thoughtfully tucked a blanket around her. Removing it, she accepted the bowl and tucked in after making sure Martin had a bowl. As if knowing what the Hero of Kvatch was thinking, Martin tilted his bowl to show it was empty.

"Thanks by the way, I guess the blanket was you." Asked Selmia between sips.

"You're welcome." Replied the Septim, giving her a gentle smile. "So… happy hunting?"

"Aye. Got a Daedra artefact. I can't believe how many of the Daedra lords and ladies need me to fetch stuff they've lost." Selmia Grace bent down to her rucksack, rummaging. "I've actually got a few here which I've had for a while. Let me see. I have Namira's ring, Vaermina's Skull of Corruption…" Martin couldn't help but roll his eyes as Selmia placed the items on the table. The ring, the staff, Azura's star … a lock pick? Martin reached out a hand to pick up the skeleton key, but Selmia slapped his hand away.

"Paws off. I'm keeping that. So you can choose Azura's star, Namira's ring, the skull thingy or Wabbajack." Martin looked up surprised as she pulled out yet another staff.

"Selmia. Do you go around helping Daedra lords on your weekends off? And what did Sheogorath have you do?" He asked, deciding to pick up the Skull of Corruption gingerly and put it to one side.

"Mostly. I often just raid ruins and caves. Also didn't you hear about Border Watch?" The woman began packing away the rest of the Daedra artefacts.

"The rain of burning dogs? Did I happen to mention I'm a dog person?" She paused and looked at him to see if he was joking. He wasn't. From behind Martin, Baurus mouthed ' you're in for it now'.

"The dogs were Sheogorath's work. I just caused the plague of rats and famine. So blame the mad prince. What's next on the shopping list?" She said hastily, hoping the subject would change.

"Hmmm, okay. I haven't translated the next ingredient yet, but I do know Jauffre needs your help with something down in Bruma." Selmia nodded and hastily stood up, eager to get away from the dog lover. As she reached the main doors, Martin spoke again:

"Oh and Gracey? Try not to set any poor dogs on fire."

She gave him a glare and went out, choosing to ignore the snigger from Baurus. No matter what, Martin always managed to get the last jibe in. Their banter was friendly, of course and a source of great amusement to Baurus. Rubbing her hands together for warmth, she set off along the wall, to where Jauffre stood, gazing at Bruma. Halfway she paused to rub the tip of her pointy ears and wondered how these Blades coped with the cold. It was also a good thing her skin was blue already or it would have been turning that colour now.

"I thought I told you to rest in the barracks, not fall asleep in the great hall." Said the Grandmaster as she came over, arms wrapped around herself for warmth.

"It's warmer in the hall, plus you let Martin sleep at his desk." Retorted Selmia.

"It's the only sleep Martin gets. When I saw you, I would have woken you up, but Martin told me not to. Said something about, he wouldn't clean up the mess afterwards." Selmia rolled her eyes.

"Why does everyone make it out that I'd kill them for the slightest wrong doing? I'm a bleeding short half Dunmer not a 7ft tall giant with lighting coming out of my eyes." Selmia height's didn't really bother her, it helped when she was in battle. Her enemies always had to stoop to hit the 5ft 3 blue blur and it helped when she had get into tight spaces. But when she had to get something off the top shelf… that was a different and embarrassing story.

"No offence but you did close the gate at Kvatch and there wasn't much left of those Cultists at the Priory. Anyway I didn't want to talk about that…" Jauffre was suddenly interrupted as Selmia shoved him to the ground. A second later several arrows flew past them. That was one advantage to having pointy ears, she had better hearing than most people. The Blades were quick off the mark and hurried to the walls, bows drawn. Selmia heard the yells of Mythic Dawn agents. Peaking over the wall, she saw about seven of them.

"Hpm. They are no match for us." Muttered Jauffre but Selmia was disinclined to agree. The Mythic Dawn wouldn't be throwing their people at them like fodder… unless they were a distraction. Selmia immediately bolted to the building. All the other Blades were at the gate, dealing with the distraction. That meant only Baurus was defending Martin. She ran in, just in time to see Baurus deal with an assassin and Martin frying another with lightening. Another dropped from the roof in front of her, but he faced Martin. He was a little surprised when Selmia's Katana pierced his chest. Baurus glanced at her momentarily.

"Distraction at the gates?" He asked.

"Yeah. Clever tactic. I thought Jauffre would know better"

"What's the saying? Overconfidence gets you killed?"" Added Martin, quickly grapping the Mysterium Xares, no doubt if the Mythic Dawn couldn't get their target, they'd go for the next best thing, the Blade's only way to get the Amulet back. Selmia grabbed her empty food satchel and chucked it to him. The Septim was quick in putting his notes and the tome inside. Selmia also grabbed her small backpack with her basics in. Then several more assassins came in from the adjoining rooms and the stairs. They must have been sent to different rooms to make sure. Baurus glanced out of the front door.

"The ones outside have been dealt with. Your highness." Martin acknowledged the hidden order and hurried after the blade, Selmia shortly followed after sending the assassins back with a blast of raw magic. Outside the blades had quickly surrounded Martin. Strangely the Mythic dawn agents didn't come out. Then Selmia caught a sick look flicker across Martin's face. The Septim had become a lot more paler.

"Jauffre! They've summoned something!" He said urgently. Martin was the most magically sensitive being a former conjurer, of course he'd know the sense of daedric magic. There was a sickening crunch as the front doors was booted off their hinges and a daedoth strode out followed by three heavily armoured Daedra Kynreeve. The Blades happily charged into battle while Selmia kept close to Martin. The Septim damaged the enemies a lot so Selmia had an easier time cutting them down. While she ran a cultist though, she realised Martin had been driven away from the group by a mage and was having trouble checking his shield spell up. A fire ball pounded the shield and Martin staggered backwards, the stress evident on his face from using so much mana in a short time. Then the Cultist mage charged up a powerful fire spell. The purple shimmer disappeared from around Martin, he'd ran out of Mana. If he was anywhere near the spell when it went off…

Selmia immediately sheathed her Katana and sprinted. Martin was close to the edge, hopefully there'd be a decent amount of snow to cushion them. She thought as she barrelled into him and took them both of the edge of Cloud Ruler Temple. She felt the fire and heat from the spell discharging. It was too close to her skin for comfort. Well too close, Selmia felt the pain as the fire seared though her armour.

She'd been right. They'd managed to fall right into a snow drift, then her head connected with a rock with a loud crack, and darkness claimed her.

_**Sooo… Good? Bad? Should I continue? I won't exactly be following canon with the timeline and Martin.  
Trishata96  
**_


	2. Martin

**Martin**

**Thank you for the encouragement to continue. I always thought they didn't dwell that much on interaction between Martin and your character. I will be switching between Martin and Selmia's POV every chap. **

**Slight edit to tone down on some of the internal dialouge  
**

Martin quickly shook his head, dislodging several pieces of snow. He bit down a yell as some slid down his neck. The front of his body ached slightly but he didn't expect anything else since somebody had just flung him over the edge, thought the snow drift had cushioned him. Then his hearing began to come back to him, the explosion must have deafened him. From what he could tell the battle was just getting started. Then a groan caught his attention. His mouth gawped when he realised that Selmia was partially on top of him yet not awake. Then he saw blood straining her usually pure white hair.

_Oh Akatosh, no!_

Scrambling he moved aside her faded red scarf and felt for a pulse. He was relieved when he found she still drew breath. A scream from Cloud Ruler Temple reminded him that the Mythic Dawn were here and they were not here to have tea and dinner with them. Soon he found the source of the blood. Selmia had cracked part of her head on a rock. Then Martin realised the state of his friend. The back of her leather armour was completely charred, some parts were completely gone and instead there was burned skin. He gagged at the smell.

_Calm down! Just heal her… oh blo… heck. No Mana._

Then a fireball landed not far from him. Looking up he could see spells flying everywhere and hear screams of agonising pain. Then he heard Jauffre yelling:

"Martin! If you're Still alive! RUN!" Martin could hear the desperation in his voice, if he was being told to run then the blades weren't winning.

_Get her somewhere safe. Then you can heal her._

_I can't. I can't leave people behind again! Not like Kvatch!_

_Getting yourself killed won't do any good. You will doom all of Tamirel!_

_I know but…_

_You can't save them, but you can save her! She's the key to this all! And you owe her!_

Finally listening to that little voice, Martin gently picked Selmia up and hurried away from the battle, feet sinking into the snow. He was careful not to jostle the half blood elf too much. He didn't want to cause more damage. Soon the sounds of battle faded and it was just the wind. And the bitter cold. Martin's robes offered no protection against the elements of the north. Though luckily he saw the entrance to a cave. Martin slowly snuck in quietly as much as he could carrying a woman. The last thing he wanted to do was run into bandits or a bear. Surprisingly the cave was empty, though there were signs that a group of people had been here earlier.

Finding a discarded bedroll, Martin carefully laid Selmia down and put a head on her forehead. She was cold but not stone cold. Taking deep breaths he pushed Selmia onto her side so he could examine her back. It was a mess. No that was an understatement. Thought Martin correcting himself when her realised the leather had not been burned yet melted…

Martin was glad that her backpack had not been dealt the same damage. He rooted though, pulling out bandages and potions. Martin tried to tap into his mana reserves yet they still hadn't recharged. That would explain why he was still light-headed. It'd been so long since he had had to use so many offensive spells. Perhaps if… no, when Selmia woke up and was fully healed he could ask her for some melee training. Though first he had to heal himself. Checking the potions, he was slightly annoyed when he realised there were none for Mana. Then again Selmia rarely used magic, the only time the Septim had seen the feisty elf use magic was an hour ago and at the priory. When he had asked her if she had any training, she'd said something about she couldn't really cast spells and 'fireballs usually blew up in her face'.

_Here she is bleeding out and you are reminiscing, nice one Martin._

Martin mentally kicked himself for getting distracted and pulled out a bottle of beer from Selmia's bag. Quickly he washed his hands in the alcohol, wincing as the liquid slipped into cuts. Then he soaked a rag in it and began to clean away the blood on her back, so he could properly see how bad the damage was. Some of the cuts were already clotting up, so Martin decided to at least check her head. When that was bandaged, he carefully removed the back of her armour. Grimacing, he peeled the melted leather away from her skin. Some pieces refused to move altogether so he'd had to cut away the skin too, opening up new wounds. Wiping his hands, he double checked the bag, praying he'd missed something. Then he felt his hand brush against a small forgotten bottle. It was Lichor extract. He had no idea how Selmia had gotten her hands on a plant the came all the way from the Summerset isles, but then again… this was Selmia he was talking about. Downing a sip or two, he quickly set to healing the skin and trying to remove as much of the burns as possible.

He couldn't help but blame himself. If Martin hadn't gotten separated, if he'd tried to catch Selmia's attention for help, then she wouldn't have had to push him out of the way. If they'd managed to get to the priory in time, then the amulet would not have been taken. There were a lot of things he blamed himself for. Like Kvatch, all those people, men, women and children… all butchered just to get to him. The Emperor's bastard. Why hadn't his 'father' told Martin he was not his flesh and blood? Why had he been hidden? He paused in his thoughts to look at his work. No longer was there melted skin, it'd all now become smooth, with only a single scar blemishing it, a perfectly straight one, right down her spine.

It was then Martin realised he'd been staring, blushing to himself, he tucked the blankets around the sleeping elf. He wouldn't risk putting a shirt onto her, her back would still be tender and he didn't want to cause her any more pain. He paused, uncorked a potion and tickled the liquid down her throat. It'd help ease the pain. Martin just really hoped that the knock to the head had not caused any serious damage. The last thing he wanted was to lose her.

_Because she is our only hope? Or because she reminds you of someone?  
_

_I don't know.  
_

**I'm not really sure whether I've got Martin right, I always saw him as the sort of guy who blamed himself for other people's suffering, especially concerning Kvatch, so feedback is welcome. I'm not sure where i got the idea for the internal dialogue too, so scrap or keep?  
Trishata96  
**


	3. Selmia

**Selmia**

Gentle songbird woke Selmia Grace up from her slumber. She was in her bedroom back in her house in Solitude. It was the beginning of spring as there was a gentle chill in the air. The sun just peaking over the horizon though her window. Then the door was flung open and a blur cannon-balled onto her stomach, attempting to snuggle up with her in the blankets. Rolling her eyes, Selmia allowed the bundle to curl up with her, yet when she went to look at the little person, Selmia suddenly awoke.

This time she awoke to the howling of wind and a harsh chill that had set in her bones, on instinct she clutched the scratchy sack blankets closer. There was a dull throbbing in her head and a nagging pain all across her back. Was that cursing she could hear? Forcing her eyes to focus along with her ears, she realised the cursing came from right in front of her. Kneeling, with his back to her, was Martin, who seemed to be trying to get a fire going.

"Wood wet?" She asked, her voice coming out in a croak. The Septim dropped the kindling and turned to face her. He looked quite worried.

"Err.. Yes. Are you okay?" He put a hand to her forehead. Selmia slightly shivered, his hands were freezing. Only now did she notice the man was shivering.

"I'm fine apart from a headache. You on the other hand…ow!" Selmia cringed when she tried to move, the nagging pain had promptly erupted into something truly agonising. Martin's hand went to her shoulder and a soft blue glow encased it, gradually the pain faded.

"I on the other hand, am not recovering from serious burns." Muttered Martin.

"Burns? Oh.. That fire spell was larger than I thought… It can't be that bad…" She trailed off as Martin fixed her with a serious glare. Akatosh, those blue eyes had now become as hard as stone.

"Selmia. It melted the back of your armour. Some bits I had to cut off your back." He muttered, worry started to creep into his voice. " It'll be a while until you can move properly without pain as long as you stay still and don't lie on your back."

"Martin, your bedside manners are terrible. You are meant to be polite." Retorted Selmia, trying to ignore the pins and needles in her hip and leg.

"Do you want me to coddle you like a new-born baby?" He snapped back. Selmia shook her head and chose not to annoy Martin. His temper seemed pretty frayed. She didn't have to ask why she was like this. If they weren't at Cloud Ruler Temple and the other Blades weren't here, that meant things had not gone well. Eventually Martin got a fire going and Selmia decided to broach the subject.

"It isn't your fault you know. It was the Blades choice to stay. Some of them may have gotten away. Just please don't blame yourself." She whispered, shifting to make herself more comfortable. Martin refused to reply and just wrapped his arms around himself. Huffing in annoyment, Selmia tried to think of something to keep his mind off it.

"Okay. What have we got?" She asked.

"Let me see. A bunch of healing potions, a loaf of bread, your Katana, my dagger, Lichor extract and the clothes on our backs. I haven't searched around the caves yet, I wanted to make sure you were okay." Came the reply as Martin rubbed his hands together for warmth.

"Well, you might as well go and search since I'm okay." The Imperial opened his mouth to protest. " Martin. I am fine. If something comes to kill me, I will throw a crappy fireball at it and then scream for you." Martin shut his mouth and got up. When he left to search the nearby chambers, Selmia gritted her teeth and rolled onto her front. The side she had been lying on was completely numb. Soon she felt the gentle tingling as the blood began to circulate properly. It was now she realised that the back of her amour was missing. Of course Martin had said that parts had melted. Her back still felt tender so most proberly still healing. Tugging off her scarf, Selmia chucked it to one side and retrieved a leather cord from around her neck, she stared at the ring on the cord.

_Why did I have that dream again? It's been so long since it happened._

Selmia mentally shook herself. It was no use thinking about her past, that was too painful. She had to focus on recovering, she couldn't let the Mythic Dawn win, not again. Suddenly she heard footsteps and a angry growl.

"I thought I said not to move?" Selmia sighed at the irritated tone in Martin's voice.

"No offence but my side had gone numb and I was very careful." In one swift movement she ticked the cord back into her armour and slowly rolled onto her side. Martin huffed in reply and knelt by the fire with a Knapsack. He pulled out a thick fur and carefully draped it over her.

"I managed to find some food that hasn't gone rotten and some leather amour that's about your size for when you recover and some thick mage robes, which seem to be from a different guild. Oh and I also found a half buried chest full of Skooma."

"Oh Hell fire and damnation! This is a smuggler's hideout. We're gonna want to get out of here soon and to Bruma."

"Problem is we don't know which direction Bruma is." Muttered Martin, rubbing his hands together. Selmia rolled her eyes in annoyance when she realised the man was turning a little blue.

" Oh for Shor's sake! If there's any furs in that bag, wrap yourself up in them. I don't want to explain why you lost fingers and toes to frostbite." She snapped. That was one thing about Martin that infuriated her. He never seemed willing to admit when he needed help or was suffering. Back at cloud ruler's temple he would most proberly work himself to death, he forgot to sleep or get something to eat. Luckily Martin seemed not to be in an arguing mood and wrapped himself up in a fur, back against the wall, yet one eye was kept on her. "If this is a Smuggler's hideout then more than likely they will have a map and compass somewhere in here. But we can find that when we've got some rest."

The Septim nodded and tucked his chin into his chest. Selmia watched until she heard Martin's breathing become more fainter, only then did sh allow herself to fall asleep.


End file.
